


To Ease the Pain

by LunaStories



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF!Stiles, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Steter Week, Steter Week 2018, Time Travel, Time Travel AU, wild shit happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 10:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15459882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaStories/pseuds/LunaStories
Summary: Stiles goes back in time to change the future he's living.The objective is simple: Kill Peter Hale.





	To Ease the Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So I didn't have the time to write anything for Steter week....and then I decided to do it anyways and whipped this up in 2 days. I am exhausted but I hope you guys will enjoy the fic. 
> 
> This fic is for Day 6 of Steter week! Against my better judgement I did both BAMF!Stiles and Time Travel which...I think I lost a kidney trying to finish this. T_T
> 
> It's wibbly wobbly time travely which is always a hit and miss so I hope this one makes sense. Just a quick note, Stiles is aged up as he's going to high school with Cora and Derek etc. 
> 
> It's unbeta-ed but I hope you guys will still enjoy it!

The first time Peter saw him, the kid was a bundle of nervous energy. He was gangly, barely seventeen and had the barest scent of medication on him.

His heart was rabbit fast, the tempo distracting. Peter had stopped by the school to pick up Cora and Derek, and as he idly waited, the boy had caught his attention.

He’d smirked at the boy, noticing the way his eyes had widened in something close to longing when he spotted Peter lounging against his sports car. Peter knew he made quite the scene, with his sharp blue eyes, stubbled cheeks and leather jacket.

He was only a few years older than these high schoolers, but the difference in maturity was astonishing. The boy was cute, but just not worth the trouble.

Besides, Derek would probably scowl at him if he tried anything. With one last look, he turned away and crossed his arms, deliberately dismissing the boy.

He vaguely heard another boy call out a name.

“Stiles!”

What an odd name. Not that it mattered. It was unlikely that Peter would ever see him again.

xxxxxx

_8 am_

Stiles opened his eyes.

He sat up carefully, taking in his surroundings and listening attentively to the quiet whispers of the early morning winds. He was in his room. His old one. It held all the things he’d lost, all the things he missed.

The childhood that was stolen from him.

He stood up and walked over to the mirror, tilting his head this way and that. He looked much younger, soft and weak.

Innocent.

With a quick inhale, the glass frosted over and his eyes flared a brilliant gold.

He pressed his lips together, his eyes dark and full of purpose. It was good that looks were deceiving. It would surely make it easier for him.

He glanced at the clock, noting that it was 8 am.

He had 12 hours.

With another deep breath, he stepped back, and vanished.

xxxxxx

The next time Peter met Stiles, it was only a week after the first brief encounter. It was after school, and he had been passing by the school in his car when Stiles had waved at him.

Stiles had approached him, smiling seductively and flirting so hard that it wasn’t even close to being subtle. Peter had been charmed, but wary.

The way Stiles held himself was completely different than before. He wasn’t an expert on the boy, they were strangers to each other. It was just that his instincts were telling him to be careful.

That this beautiful boy with his mole-dotted skin and his pink lips would be the end of him.

Still, he wasn’t one to ignore such an easy lay.

He had coaxed the boy into his car, whispered promises of pleasure and a good time in his ear.

Peter drove them to a clearing, a well known spot for hookups. He turned to Stiles, a smirk already playing at his lips and sweet words at the tip of his tongue.

It was only due to his instincts and fast reflexes that he dodged the knife. It sunk into the driver’s seat of his car, with a harsh thunk. Peter’s heart was pounding, eyes wide as he registered the fact that he was crouched on the grass, his beta shift forced to the forefront. His car door had been completely ripped from its hinges in his haste to jump away and the door now lay a few feet away from the car.

From here, he could see the frustration on Stiles’ face. His lips were pulled back and teeth bared, the snarl ugly on a boy who looked so young. The blade was dripping in wolfsbane, and it was with another jolt of adrenaline that Peter realized he had smelled nothing on the boy.

Not one hint of wolfsbane.

He was shaken, but tried to play it off, standing up slowly. A part of him itched to shift back into his human form, unused to showing any part of his wolf in public. They were in a secluded clearing, but this was a popular make out spot. At any moment, humans could interrupt them and see him.

A larger part of him refused to shift back, wary of what the boy was capable of.

“I have to say, knife-play isn’t really my thing.” Peter teased, even as he backed away from the car.

His eyes darted to the side, a mistake on his part. He was trying to judge how far he was from the forest, how many steps it would take before he could blend into the familiar forest and howl for help.

Suddenly, the sky darkened and an ominous rumble echoed through the forest. Before he could react, everything flashed bright and he dropped to the floor, his body convulsing.

_I’ve been hit by lightning._

That was his only thought as his body twitched, a whine building in his throat that he ruthlessly shoved down. He had a feeling the sudden lightning strike wasn’t a coincidence. But hopefully, it would be a weird enough weather phenomenon that his pack would go check it out. He just had to hold out till then.

It was rather embarrassing, being incapacitated by a boy half his size. Peter let out a shaky breath, his eyes tracking the boy as he stepped out of the car and stood in front of the wolf. Peter was on his side, his arms resting in front of him as his muscles shook at random intervals.

“This is nothing personal.” Stiles said, something like regret in his voice. “I just have people I love, and people I need to save.”

Peter coughed out a laugh, a picture of nonchalance even as he felt the first stirrings of worry in him. There was just something about Stiles that reeked of old power. Now that Stiles allowed his power to surface, Peter could tell that he was drowning in magic, the smell of ozone thick in the air. He could almost taste it.

It didn’t make sense. The Stiles from a week ago had been a normal albeit ADHD teenager. The Stiles now held himself like a soldier who’d gone through several wars. He held himself like the world was on his shoulders and everyone was an enemy.

“I’ve never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.” Peter spit out, his eyes wildly flickering between beta blue and his normal eyes.

Stiles crouched down, just enough so that Peter could meet his eyes. They were hard but they weren’t cruel. In fact, they almost seemed pained, as if he didn’t want to do this. Distantly, Peter wondered what his motive was.

The tip of the knife traced his throat, light and delicate as a feather. It left a trail of burning red skin, his wolf growling at the touch of wolfsbane.

“Don’t lie to me, Peter.” Stiles leaned in, the blade tapping right under one blue eye. “I know what blue eyes mean.”

Peter stiffened, his breathing measured as he tried to relax. He had to relax, the quicker he recovered, the higher his chance of getting out of this situation.

“Well then, it seems we’re at a standstill.”

Stiles hummed, the blade pressing just a little harder into Peter’s neck. Peter couldn’t help the hiss of pain he let out, his body craning back, away from the blade.

“Not really, I’m still going to have to kill you.” Stiles lifted the blade from his neck and Peter held his breath. A finger twitched, and carefully, he brought his claws out.

Stiles seemed to hesitate for a moment, and it was in that moment that Peter struck. He swiped his hand up, fingers clawed as he used his other arm to push himself up and scoot back. Stiles quickly leaned back to avoid the claws, falling on his ass with a grunt.

They both recovered quickly and Peter staggered to his feet. He heard a bitten off curse and suddenly, vines were growing out of the ground to wrap around him.

He growled, his claws ripping the vines easily off of himself before he bolted into the forest, his steps slower than usual as his body was still recovering. He threw his head back, and howled.

Several howls answered back.

xxxxxx

_8 hours 54 minutes- 4:54 pm_

“Damn it!” Stiles hissed out in pain as he slammed a fist onto the forest floor. He was still crouched, hands covered in dirt as he dug it into the ground.

He gritted his teeth as he looked up, eyes glaring at the destroyed vines littering the floor.

“I’m running out of time…” Stiles shoulders slumped and he curled into himself for a moment. Everything rode on him succeeding. He had to, there was nothing else left for him if he didn’t kill Peter.

_Why did I fucking hesitate?_

He knew why, and maybe that was the most terrifying thing. He had no choice, and hesitating would do him no good.

Stiles inhaled a shaky breath and raised a hand to wipe away his frustrated tears.

He was scared and the only thing he could do was keep going.

xxxxxx

Peter ran like his life depended on it.

And it really did. The boy had been devastatingly powerful, his control over the elements almost limitless. It was both absolutely breathtaking to watch and terrifying to be the focus of all that power.

He didn’t know how long he’d been running, and distantly, he could hear the pack running towards him.

It was only after several more clumsy steps, that he realized he could smell something burning. Looking around him, he noticed that the woods looked darker even though it was still in the afternoon.

He coughed a few times, and it dawned on him that it wasn’t his eyesight failing him, it was smoke.

The forest was on fire.

Peter heard a whooshing sound and dodged to the right instinctively. To his left, the tree he’d been next to suddenly burst into flames. He backed away from it until his back hit a tree. His eyes darted around and he pressed one clawed hand over his nose and mouth as he tried to find a way out.

Stiles had him trapped.

His mouth pressed into a grim line, his mind racing.

“Stiles!” Peter called out, coughing as his sensitive nose breathed in more smoke. “I know you’re out there!”

“Clever.”

The voice came from above him and it startled Peter. He jumped back, almost stumbling again as his lips pulled back into a snarl. Sitting on a high branch on the tree he’d been leaning on, was Stiles.

The boy was dangling his feet casually, his gaze curious.

“You were always too clever for your own good.” Stiles let out a hum as he dropped down from the tree. He made a sweeping motion with his hand and the fire was suddenly all around them. It didn’t come any closer, and Peter knew it was only because Stiles _willed_ it to stay away.

“I still don’t know why you’re doing this, sweet boy.” Peter shifted back into his human form, face pulled into a faux understanding look as he carefully stepped closer. “If this is because of something I’ve done in the past, perhaps we could talk about this in a more civil manner.”

Stiles sighed, his face full of pity as he shook his head.

“There’s nothing you can do because you _haven’t done anything yet_. I just need you dead. I did like you, that wasn’t a lie, so I’m sorry I have to do this.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t have to, if someone is holding the people you love hostage we can help you-“ Peter tried to reason with him again, his mind trying to make sense of what the boy was telling him. It was confusing, and a lot of his phrases made little sense. Stiles spoke as if he knew Peter.

“No,” Stiles cut him off, his tone hard again as he took out the wolfsbane knife. “I’m doing this because I have to, not because someone is telling me to. In order for me to keep them safe, you have to die.”

A loud snarl sounded through the forest, and a small wolf tackled Stiles to the floor. He seemed surprised before he reacted, raising the blade to defend himself. He looked into beta-gold eyes, and his face went slack, something like regret flashing across his face. The hand holding the blade slowly lowered, until it was no longer held up against the wolf’s neck.

“Cora…?” It was a hoarse whisper, and it was echoed in the way Cora let out a confused whine. There seemed to be a pause in the battle, as the two stared at each other. Cora shook her fur, breaking herself out of her thoughts and let out a loud growl. She lunged for his throat and Stiles let out a curse.

He quite literally melted into the ground, Cora’s teeth snapping around nothing. Just as quickly, the fire stopped. It was so abrupt, that they both had to catch their breaths.

When the other wolves finally found them, they quickly pushed and shoved at Peter until they were running towards the Hale house.

xxxxxx

_10 hours 35 minutes- 6:35 pm_

Stiles was breathing hard, his back against a tree as he heard the wolves escape. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, tears streaming down his face.

Seeing Cora had reminded him of all that he’d lost. He couldn’t bring himself to raise a hand against her, not when he knew she would be lost in the fire tonight.

It was frustrating, he had come all the way from the distant fucked up future to change what he could, and he couldn’t even save the Hale pack.

His future was meaningless. There was nothing there but despair. After Scott and his father had been killed, he had been left with no one and nothing. They had been the last remaining members of the pack, all of the rest had died horribly one way or another.

Stiles was now the sole survivor.

He wasn’t able to handle it, living in a world where he was so powerful he could change worlds, yet he couldn’t protect those he loved the most. His power had been hard earned through many sacrifices and painful battles.

It was time he used it to save the people he loved.

He had used a forbidden spell, one that he knew would have drastic consequences.

The deal was simple. He could go back to a specific point in time but he would only have 12 hours. In those 12 hours, he had the opportunity to change the past in any way, which would then cause a butterfly effect and hopefully give his pack a better future.

At first, he’d decided he should save the Hale pack and prevent the fire. That was the start of this mess after all. It was only after some serious contemplation that he realized realistically it would be near impossible to do so. The amount of time it would take to destroy the Argents and also get anyone to believe him would be astronomical. He only had 12 hours and he couldn’t afford to waste them.

His second option then, was to kill Peter. With Peter dead, Scott would not be a werewolf and his family wouldn’t be involved in the supernatural. It was the easiest solution, and one that he was reluctant to go forward with. He’d built up a rapport with Peter when they’d been in a pack together, before he’d been killed by a monster they’d been hunting.

It wasn’t until Peter had died, that he realized he’d felt more than irritation for the man. That the fondness had grown into love.

A love that he never had the chance to explore.

Still, he was willing to sacrifice Peter if it meant that he could save Scott and his dad.

He was on limited time, and he wouldn’t be able to do this again.

After all, the price for the spell was his spark. All his magic, and everything that was a part of him would burn for the spell. At the end of the 12 hours, he would lose it. He wasn’t sure if he would survive having his spark ripped from him, but he was willing to risk it for a better future where hopefully his pack wasn’t dead.

xxxxxx

Peter made it to the Hale house in record time. He’d been flanked by several wolves, his pack following him and watching his back.

Peter stumbled up the porch and into Talia’s arms, her grasp hard as she gave him a fierce hug and then pulled away enough to look him in the eyes. Her gaze darted over his body before settling on his neck, the line from the blade still distinctly there. Luckily, Stiles hadn’t broken the skin, otherwise Peter wasn’t sure he would have been able to get away. Wolfsbane poisoning, especially when he couldn’t identify what type of wolfsbane, would have most likely killed him.

“There’s a boy.” Peter growled out, lightly easing her hands off of him so he could breathe. His skin felt tight, his wolf pacing and paranoid. He wanted to shift fully into his wolf, where he would be safe and his teeth and claws could protect him. He resisted the urge, because he knew that wasn’t the safest decision, no matter how much his wolf howled at him. He needed a clear head so that they could figure out just how big of a threat Stiles was, and if he had others with him.

Behind him, he felt a presence, and he turned around to see that the wolves had shifted back.

“A boy?” Talia asked, her voice soothing but clearly asking for more information.

“Yes,” Peter said slowly as he was led into the house. “I believe he is working alone, but we can’t be sure. He led me to a secluded area then tried to kill me.”

Derek, who had been one of the wolves in the forest, scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Well clearly, this is because of your one night stands. Someone probably held a grudge.”

Peter snarled at him and Talia held him back from attacking Derek with a hard grip on his shoulder.

“Derek,” Talia snapped out, voice sharp. “Do not speak to your uncle that way. Go to your room, we will call for you if your presence is needed.”

Derek opened his mouth to protest but a flicker of red eyes had him shutting up, head bowed as he went upstairs to his room.

Talia turned to the rest of the pack members, most of them lounging around and watching the proceedings with varying degrees of wariness and curiosity.

“This situation is under control for now. We will call for you if needed, for now, disperse.”

Everyone obeyed, chatter rising up again as they all went back to what they were doing. The noise allowed Talia and Peter some semblance of privacy. They sat down in the living room, Peter on the couch and Talia on the arm chair across from him. She leaned forward, resting her chin on folded hands.

“Is this boy someone you know?”

Peter shook his head, a confused furrow in his brow as he racked his brain.

“He was one of Derek’s classmate’s,” Peter ignored Talia’s judgmental glare. “And he was…strange.”

“Strange how?” Talia asked, her head tilted as she lifted her nose and took in a deep breath. Her eyes widened as she smelled the distinct scent on Peter. “That’s Stiles.”

Peter looked up sharply, his eyes flashing. “You know him?”

Talia nodded, her mouth pressed in a grim line.

“He was Cora’s lab partner for a few projects. He’s been over to the main house a few times but he was wholly human. Nothing was off about him. But the scent on you…it’s him but not him at the same time. He smells powerful, like a spark that has cultivated his power through time and strife.”

“Exactly,” Peter leaned forward as well, his words picking up speed as he tried to figure out just what it was about Stiles that unnerved him so much. “See, he seems to be under the impression that I’m going to hurt the people he loves, yet I don’t know him or his family and friends. The way he spoke…it was strange, it was as if he was trying to protect people before they could get hurt.”

Peter paused, his eyes narrowed as he felt the first threads of understanding go through him.

“He spoke as if I wasn’t going to hurt them now, but perhaps in the future.”

Peter shook his head, a tremble in his hand as he ran it through his disheveled hair. “But that’s absurd. The last time someone came from the future, it was hundreds of years ago. Besides, that time it was something drastic and world-changing. Not only that, it had required an entire coven to send that one spark to our time. This boy, he seems to be here for something far more personal and he’s operating alone. I can’t imagine he could be that powerful.”

Talia stared at him, her gaze steady as she thought. Finally, she leaned back and sighed.

“Perhaps, he truly is that powerful. Either way, we can’t be sure and he seems to be targeting you specifically. I think that we should try to find out more about him first and his motives-“

Talia cut off as suddenly, all the windows in the house shattered. She stood up immediately, shifting and letting loose a howl. Peter was standing as well, his chest heaving as he panted, his nerves forced into overdrive.

They were focused on the entryway, and so it came as a surprise to the both of them when Stiles appeared behind them.

“Hey.”

They both whipped around, a subvocal growl sounding through their chest at the sight of the boy. He looked pale and shaky, his hands stuffed into his pocket.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m on limited time here and would like to finish what I started.”

“What-“ Talia was pushed back by an invisible force, her mouth sealed shut. She tried to speak and only angry, muffled yells were heard.

She slammed her body against the air, trying to find a way around it. She could only watch helplessly as Stiles casually walked forward and into Peter’s space.

He seemed unbothered by their claws and terrifying werewolf form. In fact, he almost looked bored. He was close enough for Peter to attack, and the wolf didn’t hesitate to throw himself at the boy.

As if he had predicted the attack, Stiles threw his right hand up and caught Peter’s left hand by the wrist. The claws stopped inches from his face, trembling with the strain.

Peter let out a frustrated growl and swung his other hand towards Stiles’ stomach, hoping to eviscerate him. Instead, there was a sharp snapping sound before Peter let loose a pained scream. Stiles had only flicked a finger dismissively, and snapped his wrist, stopping his second attack. His hand hung limply at his side, bent at a weird angle.

“What do you want from me?”

Peter growled out, desperate and eyes darting over to Talia. It was only then he realized he could hear the howls of worry outside the room. Stiles had probably put up a barrier, and no one was going to come save them.

“This was supposed to easy.” Stiles muttered, his grip tightening on Peter’s wrist. “I wanted to make this quick, so you wouldn’t suffer. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m glad you thought of my comfort before killing me.” Peter drawled out sarcastically, his eyes rolling. He couldn’t help how much he still liked Stiles. The boy was smart, and not only that, he was ruthlessly loyal.

If he wasn’t trying to kill Peter, he would have loved to have a mate like Stiles.

Stiles let out a huff, a wry smile marring his lips even in this tense situation.

“I always did like you.”

“That’s flattering, seeing as you knew me for only one day.” Peter spoke, his tone clearly digging for more.

Stiles indulged him, stepping back and with a flick of his wrist, Peter was slammed back into the couch, forcibly taking a seat. He couldn’t move and his body was frozen. He glanced at Talia and he could see she was just as confused as he was.

Stiles paced in front of them, his sneakers ruffling the rug they were standing on.

“As you may have guessed, I’m from the future. In that future, everyone I love dies. The start of it all was you, Peter.” Stiles paused at the distraught look on Peter’s face, the wolf probably wondering just what could have pushed him to become Stiles worst nightmare. “Don’t feel bad, you weren’t exactly sane at the time. And…you’re not _really_ the start of it all. You were just the easiest solution.”

“If I’m not the source of the problem…then why not stop it from the source?” Peter questioned, his words measured as he reasoned with Stiles.

Stiles shook his head, a hand coming up to clutch as his hair in a stressed manner.

“I don’t have enough time. Trust me, I don’t want to do this either but the alternative would take too much time and effort.”

“So what you’re saying is, I’m not worth the effort?” Peter spoke up, slightly offended and voice incredulous.

Stiles let out a frustrated breath, pressing the palm of his hand against his mouth for a moment. “That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just that your life is worth less to me than the lives of my dad and my best friend. If by killing you, I can change their future, then I would give up anything to make it happen.”

“Didn’t you think that maybe…you could have enlisted some help for your mission? Maybe you would have been able to get rid of the source of your issue if you’d just taken the time to find allies.” Peter was starting to realize that Stiles was probably in way over his head and also more than a little crazed from PTSD.

“Do you think I have the time for that?! Have you not been listening to a word I said? What did you want me to do? Go up to the Hale pack and say ‘oh hey so guess what, it turns out your son Derek is dating a hunter who’s going to kill you all in a horrific fire tonight. And by the way, a feral Peter will become the alpha after he kills Laura, one of the only survivors, and then he goes on a killing spree. He also turns my best friend into a werewolf and drags my dad into this supernatural mess. They eventually all die horribly.’ No one would believe me!”

There was a stunned, horrified pause as everyone in the Hale pack had heard that outburst. It was a tense quiet, and Stiles looked around nervously, wondering if maybe he shouldn’t had said all that.

“We believe you.” Talia slowly said, breaking the silence.

Stiles reeled back as if he’d been slapped, his mouth falling open. Surely it couldn’t be that easy?

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, well,” Peter started saying, rather dazed and stomach sinking as he tried to digest Stiles’ words. “You’ve certainly shown enough to prove that you’re from the future. We have no reason not to believe you. Especially if there’s even the slightest chance it could endanger the pack.”

“No,” Stiles let out a groan as he fisted both hands into his hair. He bowed over, mind racing as he tried to figure out what his next move should be. “No no no no! The changes everything, if you guys are willing to help then-“

Stiles’ head came up, so fast that the wolves could hear the crack of his neck. His eyes bore into Talia’s, a desperation in them that was haunting in its intensity.

“Did your howl call everyone here?”

“Yes, why?” Talia’s eyes widened in horror. “Is today…?”

“Fuck, what time is it? The reports said the fire started at around seven something, we need to get out of here now-!”

Stiles raced out of the room, the wolves hot on his heels as he broke the barrier and his hold on them. He barely made it to the front door before it blew up, a large blast of fire following it. Stiles flew back and was caught by Peter, the wolf shielding him from the blast as best he could.

Peter howled as the flames seared his back, and distantly, he realized that he wasn’t healing.

There was wolfsbane in the air.

In the house, the other wolves were quickly retreating, Talia shouting at them to head for the basement.

And god, that was exactly what doomed them the first time.

“Come on Stiles we have to go.” Peter held the boy close as he stood, teeth sharp and clenched together as he tried to ignore the pain.

“Don’t,” Stiles was dazed, his eyes blurry as he took in the way the wolves were heading down, deeper into the house. Deeper into what would eventually be their grave. “Peter…don’t let them go to the basement.”

Peter paused at the basement door, giving Stiles a measured look. “We have an escape route through there, we can get out of here easily.”

“No,” Stiles groaned, pushing Peter’s arms away, staggering back. He could feel the heat of the flames getting closer. The ashes in the air and the smoke choking him. “The hunters know. They want you all trapped down there with no escape.”

Peter froze, his wolf whining at him to run, to take the escape route they all knew. Yet, a larger part of him believed every word Stiles said.

“Then we’re stuck. We can’t get out of here either way.” Peter let his head fall forward, the tears in his eyes both from wolfsbane and the slow resignation he felt at their fate.

“Call them back.” Stiles was adamant, his eyes gold as he felt his power burn through him. He was a sight to behold, covered in ashes and blood from his head wound. He should look fragile and weak, still young. Instead, his eyes held unimaginable wisdom, and Peter couldn’t help but feel like he was powerless against Stiles determination.

“Stiles-“

“Call them back, _now_.”

It was clearly not a request, and with a huff of irritated fondness, Peter let loose a howl.

The pack obeyed, even going against their best judgement, they came back out of the basement.

“What are you doing, Peter?” Talia growled out, her self control fraying at the edges as she tried to breathe through the miasma of poisoned air and the fear she could feel through the pack bonds.

Stiles answered her, his gaze steady.

“If we can’t get out, if there is no exit, then we make our own.”

“What do you mean?” Talia stretched a hand out, as if to stop him. Peter stopped her with a hand on her wrist, giving her a look that said ‘ _wait, and trust him._ ’

Stiles took a deep breath and slowly pulled his palms apart. They sparked, an energy flowing back and forth between them as it started speeding up. It looked like pure light, or maybe even like fireworks and electricity.

“You guys might want to hold on to something.”

That was the only warning he gave before he slammed his palms together. A shockwave of energy went through them, giving everyone a tingly sense of foreboding.

At first, nothing happened. Then, as if in a rush of power, the entire house started shaking. The floor cracked, a line going through the center of the house.

The wolves watched, eyes wide as the Earth…. _split_.

Stiles continued pulling, until the house itself was split in two, the fires still a raging inferno but forcefully pushed to either side.

As the forest floor split, it broke the mountain ash line. Outside, the hunters were yelling out in confusion, watching as the house fell apart in front of them.

The moment they felt the weight of the ash disperse, the wolves descended upon the hunters with a hungry battle cry. It was a bloody battle, and Talia also ran into the fray, relishing in hurting those who had tried to kill her pack.

Stiles blinked, and it was like the world had slowed down for him as he slowly fell to his knees. Instead of collapsing, he was held against a sturdy chest, one he could feel was Peter’s.

Stiles knew that he’d used too much magic, that his spark was now nothing but a small ember. Although it didn’t matter. He could use as much as he wanted because at the end of these 12 hours he would no longer have his spark.

He would miss it.

He grabbed at Peter’s arms weakly, his hands shaky as he rested his back against the wolf.

“I’m sorry I tried to kill you.” Stiles coughed out as he closed his eyes and turned his head until it was buried against Peter’s neck. When he was held like this, he could almost pretend this was his Peter. The one he’d loved, the one he never had the chance to be with.

It had hurt so much, trying to kill Peter. It was like ripping out his own heart. Yet, when it came down to it, he would do anything for Scott and his dad.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I have to say, it was rather hot seeing you flaunt your power.” Peter nuzzled into his hair, a slow, comforting purr rumbling out of him.

Stiles let out a laugh, his smile soft as he spoke. “You always did appreciate power.”

“That I do.”

Stiles opened his mouth to respond when he felt a harsh tug from within him. Stiles eyes shot open, the gold dimming as he felt himself fading.

“I have to go,” Stiles whispered. He turned until he could face Peter, his eyes darting over the wolf’s ash-smeared face. He wanted to memorize every detail, just in case the future was still fucked up and he wouldn’t have Peter with him.

As if he could smell his longing, Peter leaned in and kissed him hard, his lips bruising.

They kissed until they couldn’t anymore, until they needed to gasp for air. Peter leaned his forehead against Stiles. Even as the battle died down around them, they didn’t focus on anything but each other.

“Stay.”

It was a hoarse whisper, a quiet plea that Peter would never have allowed. Maybe if Stiles hadn’t been so beautiful, if he hadn’t been so fiercely loyal, Peter wouldn’t have fallen this hard.

Stiles let out a shaky sigh, closing his eyes as he held Peter’s face carefully in his palms. Stiles pressed his right hand to his chest, right above his heart. Using the last bit of magic he had, he burned the name into his skin, a reminder and a promise.

He lifted his hand up and Peter traced the words with a possessive finger, mouthing the word silently.

 _Peter_ was written in a messy scrawl on Stiles’ chest. It was almost like a tattoo, the words dark like ink.

“I don’t know what will happen when I go back to the future. I don’t know if I’ll remember or if I’ll forget everything. But please, wait for me. Wait for me to remember because when the Stiles in this time grows up, he will remember. I’ll make sure of it.”

Peter could only nod, his throat closing up from how desperately he wanted to tell Stiles that he would wait forever if he wanted him to.

Instead, he pressed one last kiss to Stiles’ lips. He licked into his mouth, holding him close, holding him like he was the only thing he needed.

Finally, Stiles went limp as he fainted and Peter knew that when he woke up, it wouldn’t be the Stiles he knew. Peter held him close, his arms hugging him tight and his eyes clenched tightly shut.

_12 hours- 8 pm_

Time was up, and Peter was willing to wait as long as it took for Stiles to remember. And when he did, Peter was never letting him go.

_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Alright and that's it for the story! It was speed written and also vaguely plotted out haha but still, this is my contribution to Steter week so I'm very happy I could do at least one fic. I've seen a lot of fix-it type of time travel stories and I wondered what would happen if Stiles solution was to kill Peter. So this story was born out of that xD
> 
> As always, if you enjoyed please do let me know! It motivates me to continue writing Steter <3 Any comment and kudos feed the darkness in my soul. 
> 
> You can find my tumblr [here](http://lunastories.tumblr.com/). Feel free to drop by and say hi!


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